


ask me no questions (i'll tell you no lies)

by sinivalkoista



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FebuWhump2021, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Taverns, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:35:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29377905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinivalkoista/pseuds/sinivalkoista
Summary: When a witch offers to sell Arthur a vial of truth serum, Arthur jumps at the chance to figure out what, exactly, his manservant has been doing in the evening.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 126
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	ask me no questions (i'll tell you no lies)

**Ask Me No Questions**

Perhaps it was sneaky.

Perhaps Arthur shouldn’t have been in that tavern in the first place, but everything had happened so quickly.

One minute, he was slightly drunk and complaining to his new “drinking buddy” about his terrible, no-good manservant with a problem for pathological lying, and the next, he was being shoved into the darkest, smokiest, and stingiest corner of the tavern to speak with an old witch.

Maybe that should have alarmed him.

Pendragons did not consort with anyone who went by the title of witch, and Arthur should have stuck to his initial instinct to  _ politely excuse himself and get out before he ended up accidentally betrothing himself to someone.  _

That, after all, was the most sensible course of action.

But the alcohol made his head warm and fuzzy, far more care-free than it had been in the past few years, and he was the slightest bit curious about what the gnarled, glaring woman in the black lace shawl was going to try to sell him.

He could always arrest her or something later. 

“ _ Truth serum,”  _ she whispered, leaning across the table on her thin elbows. With a bony hand, she withdrew a vial full of shimmering liquid from a pocket in the cloak underneath her shawl. “A teaspoon, and the truth falls from their lips as easily as snow from the heavens.” She waved the bottle underneath Arthur’s nose.

“Yes, well, how do I know it actually  _ works?”  _

Drunk as he was, Arthur could still recognize what sounded like a con, and this had all the markings and colorings of one.

The witch gave him a nasty smile, revealing two black holes where teeth would have been. 

With a flick of her wrist, she removed the cork from the top of the vial and dipped one of her fingers into it. “Only a drop for only a question,” she told Arthur in a sing-song voice before licking the drop up with her blackish tongue.

Amid the swirl from too much ale, Arthur’s mind blanked. He didn’t know what he could possibly want to ask the witch that would prove the serum worked.

“Come on,” she prompted. “It only lasts so long. Think quickly.”

“I’m trying! How many potatoes did you eat last week?” 

As soon as the question was out of his mouth, Arthur winced, but the witch didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Three a day.”

“Three a day?” Arthur laughed.

The witch did not. “Well, are you going to buy it  _ or not?”  _ she snapped. “I have other customers waiting.”

As if to leave, she corked the bottle and rose, shoving it back into the folds of her cloak.

“I’ll take it,” Arthur said on impulse. “How much do you want?”

Again, the witch smiled, and Arthur had a strange feeling that was rapidly masked by the contented feeling of alcohol sloshing around in his stomach.

“One gold coin,” she enunciated clearly as though she’d had a problem with people not understanding how much she wanted paid in the past.

“All right.” Arthur dug around in the pocket of his pants and fished out a spare gold coin that he usually fiddled with during boring meetings. He supposed this was a good enough cause to sacrifice the coin for.

As soon as she caught sight of it, the witch snatched it out of his hands.

Gleefully, she held it up to one of her blood-shot eyes. “Pretty things, gold coins.” To herself, she laughed shrilly.

Arthur’s hands were still empty. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He wasn’t  _ that  _ inebriated.

Huffing, the witch pulled out the vial and carelessly dropped it onto the table. “Enjoy!” she told Arthur before shrieking, “Next!”

In the hubbub of the tavern, Arthur was swept away, and he found himself back at a table, another mug of ale the other hand, and the beat of the lively tavern music matching the thrum of his heart.

When a hand landed on his shoulder, he shook it off. “Leave me alone.” He was enjoying the atmosphere. 

“I think you’ve had enough.”

Arthur looked up into the concerned face of Lancelot.

“But I’ve only just started,” he said, the words slipping out of his mouth slurred and almost intelligible. 

“I can see that.”

Arthur’s stupid fingers couldn’t keep a good grip on his tankard as Lancelot gently pried it from his hand and set it on a table behind them, where it was immediately claimed by some other drunkkard.

Mournfully, Arthur stared after it.

“Come on.” Lancelot tugged on him.

Arthur was confused. “Where are we going? I wasn’t finished!”

“You were,” Lancelot assured him calmly. “And we’re going now.”

With the hand that wasn’t holding the vial of truth serum, Arthur tried to take a swing at the knight, but it wildly missed. If Lancelot hadn’t grabbed onto his arm, he would have toppled over and broken the vial.

“What’s this?” he asked, reaching for it.

Arthur snatched it back, closer to himself. “Mine.”

Apparently, Lancelot wasn’t curious enough to fight Arthur for the bottle. As he was pulled from the tavern, Arthur hugged it to his chest. 

He was going to get the truth from Merlin about all of  _ his  _ tavern visits, and that bottle was the key to keep him from going insane at his manservant’s antics.

No, he wasn’t letting  _ anyone _ touch it.

…

“Riiiise and shine!”

“Curse you, Merlin,” Arthur groaned, clutching one of his pillows to the side of his head in an attempt to block out the raucous nonsense.

“Well, somebody’s a grump.”

How could Gwaine go out and get wasted so  _ often?  _ “I’m never going near a tavern again,” he vowed into his pillow.

In the back of his throat, Merlin made a sound of disbelief. “That’s what they all say.” Without prior warning, he yanked the blankets off Arthur.

With as many syllables as he could spare with his pounding head, Arthur protested, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“What’s this?” Merlin asked.

Arthur’s eyes popped open.

In light of his pounding headache, he had completely forgotten about his purchase of the previous evening.

“Don’t touch that!” he yelled, springing up from his prone position on the bed.

Startled, Merlin almost dropped the bottle. 

“Give that to me,” Arthur ordered, scooting to the end of the bed and holding out a hand.

Instead of obeying, Merlin swirled the liquid around inside and held it up to his face. “What  _ is _ this?”

“Mine,” Arthur snapped. “Now hand it over before you break it.”

“I help Gaius, remember? I’m not going to break it.” Merlin squinted.

Arthur snatched the bottle from his hands, but Merlin knew better than to protest. Carefully, Arthur shoved it underneath his pillow. “Are you going to get my breakfast or what?”

Merlin rolled his eyes but crossed to the corner of the room where he had loudly dropped a food platter onto a side table when he had first entered the room. “Are you taking drugs?” he asked over his shoulder as he began pouring the wine.

“Of course not,” Arthur scoffed. “Don’t be  _ ridiculous, Mer _ lin.”

Really, if anyone were experimenting with drugs, it would be Merlin, and Arthur was going to dig to the bottom of the problem.

“What is that, then?” Turning back around, Merlin jerked his chin in the general direction of Arthur’s bed.

“None of your business,” Arthur shot back snidely.

“Drugs.” Merlin tapped the side of his temple knowingly.

“It isn’t drugs!”

“Right.”

Nearly upending the goblet of wine he had just poured, Merlin dropped the platter of food on the table.

While attempting to come up with a reason for Merlin to ingest something in his presence, Arthur inspected it.

“What? Is there something wrong with it?”

“Yes,” Arthur decided. “I’m missing a roll.”

“A roll.”

“Yes.”

“All that fresh fruit, and you want a roll?”

“Fruit is for  _ ladies.  _ Go and fetch me a roll,  _ Mer _ lin, unless you want to find yourself sitting in the stocks for the rest of the day.”

“You’re going to be sitting in a chair for the rest of your life unless you quit gaining wait,” Merlin told him like a nagging mother hen.

“Just go.” Arthur made shooing motions with his hands.

As soon as Merlin slammed the door shut behind him, Arthur dove back under the pillow to retrieve the vial.

Uncorking it, he took a whiff of it. He couldn’t detect any peculiar scent, so Merlin wouldn’t be suspicious. 

The witch had instructed a teaspoon, he recalled. Arthur didn’t have any of those to measure the amount with, so he guesstimated. A little extra rushed from the vial before he could right it, but Merlin was thick-headed. Merlin would absorb it all somehow.

No sooner had he hidden the bottle back underneath his pillow than Merlin flounced into the room, slightly out of breath and red in the face but with a roll in hand.

“Here’s your roll.” He dropped it onto the plate. “Anything else,  _ sire?  _ How about a nice roasted  _ duck?” _

“Yes, actually-” (Merlin threw his hands in the air.) “-I want you to taste test this for me.” He held out his goblet of wine by the stem.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Merlin put his hands on his hips. “You can’t be serious. Don’t you have other people who do that for you?”

“I don’t trust them. And you left. For five minutes. Poison could have gotten into it while you were gone. Go on.” He held the goblet out further.

Rolling his eyes for the nth time that morning, Merlin took the goblet from Arthur and downed it and one gulp. As he handed it back to Arthur, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Arthur pretended to be indignant that he had drunk all of it. “Hey!”

“Sorry.”

Merlin was, of course, unapologetic.

“Goodness.” Merlin made a face. “I don’t know  _ what  _ was in that, but it was  _ terrible.”  _

“Well. All the more better that  _ you  _ drank it instead of me.”

“Don’t be such a prat. There are plenty of people who have to get by with drinking  _ plain  _ water.” Merlin turned to leave.

“Stop.” 

Merlin halted.

If Merlin left, the truth serum would be wasted, so Arthur blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Polish my boots.”

“At this hour?”

“I want to look presentable.”

Under his breath, Merlin uttered some choice words about how presentable  _ Arthur  _ was going to be when he got through with him.

Never mind that Arthur weighed twice as much and had a full lifetime more of experience in beating people up.

“So, Merlin,” Arthur began as he cut into his first sausage. “Care to tell me how you’ve been spending your evenings?”

“Sleeping?”

“ _ Before  _ that.”

“Why does this matter to you?” Carelessly, Merlin laid out the polish materials.

“Because you’ve been showing up late, and I don’t appreciate it.”

“Funny. I seem to remember you  _ liking  _ sleeping late.”

Fie, if Merlin kept sidestepping all of Arthur’s questions with witty comebacks, the truth serum was going to wear out before he could get anything out of him.

“Where were you, and what were you doing?” he tried again.

“I was-” A peculiar look crossed Merlin’s face. He paused polishing Arthur’s boots to cough into his elbow. “Sorry. I was-”

“Yes?”

Arthur stopped chewing his sausage to stare at Merlin. Was it working?

“I was-” Merlin squeaked and clasped a hand over his mouth, but the words came pouring out. “I was in the caverns below the castle chasing after a sorcerer.”

At his own admission, horror coated his face.

Arthur dropped his next sausage. “A rogue sorcerer? What in the blue blazes were you doing chasing after a rogue sorcerer when you can barely lift a sword, let alone defend yourself against  _ magic!  _ You are  _ such  _ an  _ idiot.”  _

“I was-”

Oh, Merlin was going to actually  _ answer  _ that.

“I was going to stop him.” Merlin jumped to his feet. “I have to leave. Sorry, Arthur, it looks like you’re going to have to put up with George today-”

That’s it. Merlin  _ was  _ hiding something. 

Despite his clumsiness, Merlin could be quick when he wanted to, but Arthur somehow managed to beat him to the door and blocked it.

“How did you think you were going to stop him?” he questioned, panting lightly.

“By using-” Merlin bit down on his tongue, backing across the room until he was standing in the center.” 

“How did you think you were going to stop him?” pressured, raising his voice and advancing forwards a few steps.

There were other questions, yes - his mind was  _ brimming  _ with them - but this one seemed the most vital for Merlin to answer.

“Merlin,  _ how did you think you were going to stop him?”  _

“By using my magic.”

Blood dribbled from Merlin’s lip in stark contrast to the sheer white his face turned.

_ By using my magic.  _

Merlin was a sorcerer.

“What did you  _ do  _ to me?” Merlin gasped.

What had he done to Merlin? What had  _ Merlin  _ done to  _ him?  _

All those years, and Merlin was a  _ sorcerer.  _

“Get out!” he yelled. 

He never wanted to look at Merlin again.

“Arthur, please, I promise you-”

“ _ Stop!”  _ Arthur roared. “Just stop talking!”

“I would never hurt you - I’ve only used my magic for good, I  _ swear-”  _

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Arthur seethed, turning to face the door before realizing Merlin could kill from behind and whipping around again. “You’ve lied to me since we met!”

“Arthur,  _ please.”  _ Almost helplessly, Merlin stood in the middle of the room, two tracks of tears running down from his eyes. “I’ve been trying to help you. I would never hurt you. I would give you my  _ life.”  _

Anger, betrayal, sadness, and rage all welled up in Arthur. Each conflicting emotion grabbed at his heart, demanding to take over.

Arthur didn’t know anything.

He didn’t know anything at Merlin, now, didn’t know what to believe, didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how he could have been so  _ stupid  _ and so  _ blind,  _ didn’t know if he could believe a single word-

The truth serum.

In three long steps, Arthur crossed back to his bed again and yanked the vial from its hiding place. 

He thrust it at Merlin. “Drink this - no, drink half of it.”

Dumbly, Merlin took the vial. “What is this? Is it poison?”

“Just  _ drink it!”  _

Merlin downed half of it. 

As soon as he corked it again, Arthur snatched the bottle from his hands, ignoring the disgusted face Merlin made. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“No!”

“Have you ever tried to kill me?”

“No, of course not! At least, not intentionally!”

“Are you consorting with other sorcerers to bring down Camelot?” 

“No!”

“Are you an enemy of Camelot?” Arthur picked up his sword and removed it from its sheath.

“No.” Merlin kept his eyes on the sword, but he did not make a move for the door like Arthur half-expected him to.

Sword in front of him, Arthur advanced towards Merlin, preparing for any kind of movement. “Are you an enemy of  _ me?”  _ He held the sword up to Merlin’s throat.

Hurt flashed across Merlin’s face. “I would never,  _ never  _ hurt you Arthur. I would die for you.”

“Did you not drink enough?” Arthur sent a furtive glance at the vial of truth serum, which was now lying on its side on his bed. “Did you undo its effects with magic?”

Was that even possible?

He should have asked the witch about terms and conditions, but he had  _ never  _ thought that he would have to ask these kinds of questions from  _ Merlin.  _

It wasn’t right.

“I drank  _ plenty.”  _ Merlin’s lip curled in distaste. “It’s going to last a while yet. I did not undo its effects.”

“Just  _ how long  _ have you been practicing magic, anyway?” Arthur demanded hotly. 

“Since I was born.”

Arthur snatched up the bottle and shoved it at him again. “Drink more. It must have worn off.”

Merlin shoved the hand with the bottle away, narrowly missing nicking himself on the neck. “I don’t need a ruddy truth serum to know how long, Arthur. I’ve been able to use magic before I could  _ walk  _ or  _ talk.  _ I didn’t get a choice in the matter!”

“You - you could have  _ stopped.”  _

Surely, if Merlin wasn’t an enemy as he  _ said,  _ he would have stopped. Why continue the evil practice if he was on Arthur’s side? He could not reconcile the two.

“I can’t! It’s  _ literally  _ a part of me. Does the phrase ‘I didn’t get a choice in the matter’ mean anything to you? Did you  _ choose  _ to be a Pendragon? Were you chosen to be the next king of Camelot, or were you born into it? Arthur, there is  _ no one  _ else that I would rather see sit on the throne of Camelot, and I will do anything to make sure that happens.” Looking down, Merlin laced his fingers together. “And whatever you decide to do...I’ll take that.”

Arthur had never seen Merlin look so serious, so scared, so defeated in the entire time that they had known each other.

The arm holding up the sword was shaking, but not because of weakness. 

For the second time, he looked at the bottle that was trapped in Merlin’s pale fingers.

So much trouble from one vial.

Too many answers to questions he hadn’t planned on asking.

Perhaps it would have been better not to know.

“I don’t want to think,” he said. “I don’t  _ know.”  _

This was Merlin.

Sarcastic, whiny, funny, brave, bold Merlin, who’d almost been there in the thick of things with Arthur.

Merlin was a sorcerer.

Angrily, he threw his sword into the corner of the room, where it crashed into the paneling and sent wooden shards flying. He pointed at the door.

“Get out.”

“I’m-”

“ _ Get out.”  _

He couldn't look at Merlin.

He couldn’t talk to Merlin.

But he could think about Merlin and try to reconcile the Merlin he once knew with the Merlin that existed now.

Somehow.

Quietly, Merlin left the room, his footsteps pattering in the hallway.


End file.
